Beneath the Night

As night settled, only a slender crescent of Blood Moon remained on the horizon, like a wound torn open.

Dark red light seeped from it like blood, staining half the sky.

Fortunately, the faint orange-red glow of the Most Holy Origin Furnace held that cold encroachment beyond the human nations.

After a full day's march, the column of several thousand finally stopped to make camp.

They were still deep within the Kingdom of Austeria, some distance from the Eternal Night Wall. Tonight, no one needed to sleep with a weapon in hand.

Shien's temporary camp naturally fell into three rings.

The innermost held the Church Knights and their attendants. They sat around a low fire, with no idle chatter, only the soft rasp of whetstones against blades.

The middle ring held the Greywood Lineage's knights, Osteria's knights and soldiers, and several clerks traveling with them.

The fires burned high. Wine flasks passed from hand to hand, dice clattered against iron shields, and one crude joke followed another.

Their laughter was loud and grating, as though they hoped it would drown out their unease.

The outermost ring held the Convicts and serfs. They crouched in the shadows without a sound.

Food went to the inner ring first.

Thick meat stew was ladled into wooden bowls. Thick slices of meat and cheese rested in the broth as steam rose and its aroma spread through the night wind.

Even the knights looked unusually relaxed. This was not something they got to eat every day, either.

But when the next barrel was carried toward the outer ring, the fireside fell silent for a moment.

The Convicts received broken pieces of hard biscuit and a ladle of hot broth slick with grease. There was not a scrap of meat in sight, but its aroma was unmistakable.

They froze, glanced up to make sure, then quickly lowered their heads and clutched the broth and biscuits awkwardly to their chests, as if afraid someone would take them back.

At the sight, the knights exchanged glances.

"Meat broth for them? Do these Convicts deserve even a taste of meat?"

"Is the young master planning to eat through the Lineage's entire fortune on the road and die with a full belly?"

"You shouldn't speak of the lord that way." A deep voice came from the other side of the fire.

Everyone turned. The speaker was Ivan, built like an ox and conspicuous even among knights.

Though still young, he was already a Third Tier Resonance Realm knight. With his talent, the Lineage should never have sent him to the Eternal Night Wall, yet for some reason he had been assigned to this expedition.

Ivan raised his head and did not flinch from the dozens of eyes turned on him.

"Since our lord commands us, he has the right to decide rewards, punishments, and rations." He paused, as if reciting an oath. "The lord's decisions are not for others to question."

But the moment he finished, laughter erupted around the fire.

Hans, captain of the knights, patted Ivan on the shoulder. "Right, right. Lick the lord's boots clean, and maybe he'll grant you a plot of land."

Someone immediately chimed in. "If you're still alive after next year's Blood Moon Season, then talk about rewards."

"Hahaha! Hahaha..."

The laughter went on, harsh enough to sting.

Ivan said nothing more. He sat at the edge of the firelight, his broad back looking awkward.

He meant every word, but no one wanted to believe him.

After dinner, a guard walked to the center of camp and shouted, "Everyone, assemble! The lord has something to say!"

Reluctantly, people tucked their wine flasks back into their belts and rose in scattered groups. Their eyes held confusion, impatience, and undisguised contempt.

What could a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old bastard possibly say that was worth hearing?

While the others were still eating, Shien had stood alone on a rise outside the camp, looking down at the crowd and recalling the thick stack of forms.

Four hundred and eighty-three people in all.

They were the foundation of his future territory and his bargaining chips for survival.

Two hundred and two knights and warriors of the Greywood Lineage.

On paper, they were the earldom's finest defenders, his support. In truth, they held the deepest resentment.

They had once had stable posts and a path to promotion. Now they had been drafted into an expedition destined to be worn away.

Eighty-four warriors and knights from the Kingdom of Austeria.

They were regular troops sent to bolster his forces, but they came from disparate backgrounds and had no coherent command structure.

Some came from border legions, while others had been transferred at short notice. Most were strangers to one another, sent under his command for making mistakes or simply having bad luck.

If he mishandled their deployment, they would fall apart in their first real battle.

Forty Church Knights and other clergy had the best equipment and the tightest formation.

They were the sharpest blade in the column. Unfortunately, he did not hold its hilt, and if Shien dared take a single step back, those blades would turn on him first.

There were one hundred and twenty-nine Convicts and laborers, a mix of petty offenders, ruined farmers, and landless tenants...

Twenty-eight technical specialists, including Alchemists and craftsmen. In his eyes, they were his most precious fixed assets, the true pillars on which to rebuild his territory.

As Shien surveyed the camp and compared it with the ledgers in his mind, he found more problems than he had expected.

Supplies were being skimmed at every stage of distribution. The figures in the ledgers matched perfectly, but the money and goods in the bags were plainly short. To put it bluntly, someone was stealing.

Order in the camp was fraying as well.

Kingdom infantrymen who should have been taking turns on patrol leaned against wagon frames, drinking and laughing with their armor hanging loose.

Craftsmen who should have been protected lay sprawled over wagons, carefully shielding their tools.

Whips sometimes fell on the Convicts' backs for no reason but to vent frustration.

More troublesome still was morale. Some knights even whispered that the Graymist Defense Zone could not be held.

Rather than risk their lives, they would muddy the waters, conserve their strength, and slip back toward the Inland if things became desperate.

The fact that Shien had heard this meant the talk had already spread through the column. It was dangerous and had to be dealt with at once.

Shien then looked past his own camp to those of the other four newly appointed lords. Their fires were just as scattered, their camps just as noisy.

From what he had seen, the other lords were in much the same position. By size alone, his own force could even rank third.

But none of them had noticed the problem. They were busy comforting weeping family members, blustering with feigned confidence, or even drinking to steady their nerves.

Everyone thought the real test lay beyond the Eternal Night Wall.

No one realized the collapse had already begun from within.

Shien sighed. How could he hold the Graymist Defense Zone alongside this swarm of vermin?

Suddenly, an ill-timed thought surfaced.

Perhaps the Church had never intended for them to hold the Graymist Defense Zone for long. They were merely meant to withstand this year's Blood Moon Season.

As for next year... the Church would find stronger forces to replace them, or send another batch of people to buy one more year.

They were more like disposable supplies, meant to spend their lives for a little time.

Shien had long suspected as much, but the thought still chilled him to the bone.

He forced himself to set the speculation aside. For now, there was no point guessing at the Church's strategy.

He lowered his gaze to the figures gathering haphazardly below.

If they were to be treated as expendable, all the more reason not to live like it. Even if there was only one straw within reach, he would grasp it with all his strength.

First, he had to bring the chaos before him under control.

Only once this force could function would he have any right to consider what came next.

The crowd slowly gathered around the rise.

Hans was among them.

He was one of the two captains of the Greywood Lineage's hundred-knight unit, a central figure in the force.

He had served two years on the Eternal Night Wall and killed Dark Creatures with his own hands. He was one of the few here who had truly faced the Blood Moon.

To Hans, this young lord who had just turned fourteen was nothing more than a pawn the Lineage had cast away.

He did not believe someone like that could command knights who would have to fight for their lives on the wall.

So in his eyes, this assembly was merely a futile display.

He had even prepared the boy's lines for him in his head: plead weakness, seek allies, curry favor, and try to win their support.

Perhaps I can use this to put him in his place, Hans thought.

The other knights felt much the same. They did not care what their young lord had to say.

"The little lord has something to say?"

"Trying to assert his authority already?"

"What could a child who hasn't even grown a hair yet possibly tell us?"

Low murmurs spread through the crowd.

But as they looked up at the rise, the voices gradually faded.

The boy standing above them wore a dark cloak, his long silver-white hair gleaming coldly beneath the Blood Moon.

He was young, so young that people instinctively looked down on him.

Yet once their eyes settled on him, they found it hard to look away.

His almost excessive composure stood in stark contrast to his still-boyish face, yet somehow the two did not clash.

Hans's brow creased slightly, and his smile faded before he realized it.

Shien stood on the high ground without rushing to speak. He simply swept his gaze from the knights in the front row, inch by inch, to the Convicts at the outer edge.

At first, scattered mutters remained. Then they dwindled.

Two minutes later, the camp's clamor had been pressed into dead silence, broken only by the crackle of flames.

Only then did the young lord speak. "I thought I was taking command of warriors. Now I see nothing but a heap of rotting meat waiting to be devoured by the Dark Races."